


Crystal Ice

by captainbrig



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, And I'm so crappy at titling things its unreal, F/M, Fluff, Hot Chocolate and Cookies, I honestly have no idea what the point of this was, Ice Skating, Philinda - Freeform, Philinda as Skye's Parents, So much fluffy goodness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 05:36:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5236253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainbrig/pseuds/captainbrig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil, Melinda and Ice Skating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crystal Ice

Phil reached out and stroked his fingertip along a framed picture that sat on his desk. It showed a young girl caught mid motion, twirling gracefully in the air. Pristine white skates adorned her feet, and though she was dressed simply, bundled up in a thick thermal sweatshirt and a red woollen scarf, one could clearly see her beauty. Around her was the frozen landscape of a forest, all untouched white snow and dead trees, creating a perfect contrast to the woman and her colourful scarf. Next to it in a matching frame was practically duplicate picture, except this time, the young woman was in a stadium, and was decked out in a red skating leotard. There were minute differences in her face, the slope of her nose, the shape of her lips, but it was obvious the two women in the picture were related. Phil smiled as he recalled exactly how the first photo had been taken.

XXX

Phil grumbled as he trudged through the woods at the back of his house. It was freezing outside, and the cold metal of his camera seeped through his woollen gloves, but he needed some sort of inspiration for his portfolio for his photography class. So here he was, freezing his ass off as he stomped through the woods to his favourite spot a short walk from his house. It was a little lake, sure to be frozen over by now but hopefully sitting there would give him some sort of inspiration.

As he neared the spot, Phil could hear an odd noise. It almost sounded like someone shaving ice. He peered through some of the bushes, and he finally spotted the source of the noise. It was a girl, a gorgeous girl, and she was ice skating. Phil couldn't help but admire how graceful she was as she easily manoeuvred around the ice. Seeing an opportunity he couldn't miss, Phil quickly flicked the power switch on his camera and adjusted the settings for the optimum picture. The girl was completely lost in what she was doing, and Phil could see the tell-tale earbuds stuck in her ears. He smiled as he caught several amazing shots of her. She really was gorgeous, he thought as he captured yet another fantastic photo. She was short and petite, and obviously Asian in descent. Her long dark hair fell straightly behind her in a ponytail, swishing and fluttering with every jump and twirl she made. Phil was so busy admiring her that he didn't realise the girl had finally noticed him and was skating over to the edge of the pond, her arms folded and a murderous look in her eyes.

"What do you think you're doing?" she yelled, anger lacing her tone. Neither of them noticed the crack in the ice that widened when she came to a stop right over it.

'Damn, even her voice was beautiful,' Phil thought, and then, 'Oh fuck.' He blushed under her angry gaze. Just as he was about to say something, they heard a loud splintering, and the ice beneath her skates gave, plunging her into the freezing water. Phil gasped and rushed over to help her. She broke through the surface sputtering, her lips already blue. Phil grabbed her and helped her manoeuvre her arms around his neck so he could pull her out. Cursing, he helped her over to where she had her boots set aside, and quickly tugged off her soaked skates and socks, helping her with her boots instead.

"Fuck, come on, you're freezing and we have to get you warm," he muttered, wrapping an arm around his waist as he tried to help her back to his house so he could help her warm up.

Halfway back though, she was shivering so badly that she couldn't even walk. Muttering curses about his own stupidity, Phil swung her up into his arms, shivering himself when he felt the cold water from her clothes seeping into his own. He hurried back into his house, clamming the door closed with his foot. Phil carried her into the bathroom, setting her on the toilet seat and quickly setting about filling the tub with lukewarm water. He couldn't set about removing her clothes, and from the glare she sent his way while shivering, he was pretty sure she didn't want him to. Instead, he grabbed her gently and submerged her in the water. She was still shivering, but Phil knew that he couldn't put her immediately into boiling water. When her lips were no longer blue, he added more hot water to the tub.

"I'm going to get you dry clothes, can you try and get the wet ones off? You'll probably warm up better if you aren't wearing any," he told her. The girl looked exhausted but nodded. Phil slipped out of his room, finding a pair of his mother's flannel pyjamas and warm socks that should fit the girl. They would be slightly bigger on her petite frame, but he figured this would be better than giving her his own clothes. He grabbed a clean towel out of the cupboard in the hall and knocked on the bathroom door. He opened it a crack and squeezed his eyes shut. He stuffed the clothes and towel through the door.

"Here you go. When you're finished, come downstairs, I'll have hot cocoa and a fire ready," he told him. He felt the clothes being taken from him, and he quickly shut the door and went downstairs to get the fire going and start the hot chocolate as promised. He was busy stirring the chocolate in the pan and thinking that his mother was going to kill him when she got home when he heard the soft padding of her footsteps.

"You never answered my question," she said as she stood in the doorway of the kitchen, basically dwarfed in his mother's clothes, her hair damp and hanging loosely don her face. If it was at all possible, she was even more gorgeous than before, except now she had the added bonus of looking adorable as well.

"I-uh...um... and you- erm. Hi, I'm Phil Coulson?" he stuttered.

She arched an unimpressed brow.

He swallowed. "I'm really sorry. I just- I go there to think sometimes, and I'm kind of worried about a photography portfolio I have to submit soon, and you're just- wow, you're so fantastic on the ice and I just couldn't resist," he said quickly, blushing even more, and it wasn't because of the temperature.

She didn't soften, but she did step closer and hold out her hand. "Can I see them?"

"Oh! Sure, o-of course!" he stuttered again, fumbling to hand her the camera that was resting on the counter beside him. The girl flicked through the pictures, pausing to scrutinize each one. Phil didn't even know her name, but he did know that she was even more gorgeous up close.

"They're pretty good. You're a decent photographer," she said finally, handing him back the camera.

"Erm, thanks. I'm sorry about photographing you when you didn't know. It's just that people are so much more natural when they don't know the camera is watching. And you really are fantastic," he told her as he took it back from her.

She smiled slightly. "Thank you. I'm Melinda, by the way, Melinda May," she replied.

"Oh, you just moved in across the street, right? My mom's Julie, she's the one that sent the chocolate chip cookies over for you guys," Phil said with a bright smile.

"She did? They're amazing. I don't think I'll be able to fit in my leotard when I'm through with them," she said with a smile.

"I doubt that," Phil snorted, and then blushed. Melinda smirked at him. "I-uh, I mean...um," he sighed, "I'm making a fool of myself, aren't I?"

She chuckled. "Well, I suppose. But it is kind of cute," she replied. Phil swore he saw some colour flush through her own cheeks, but he was too busy grinning like an idiot.

"So, where'd you learn to skate?" he asked curiously.

"My mother," she told him, "it was the one thing we always did together."

"My mom and I bake together," he replied.

"So you can make fabulous chocolate chip cookies too?" she asked him.

He chuckled and nodded. "Since I was about twelve."

"Well, I bet if you make me some right now, I'd forget about you taking pictures of me without my permission," she said with a wide smirk, "and maybe I'll even let you take some more."

Phil grinned. "I think I can do that," he replied.

"Excellent. I think they'll go well with your cocoa, don't you?" she asked with a smirk. Phil chuckled and shook his head, turning to begin pulling out the necessary ingredients to make the famous chocolate chip cookies. 

Ten minutes later, Phil was dutifully mixing batter for cookies under her watchful eye where she sat on her perch at the counter.

"So, how long have you been skating?” he asked curiously.

“Since I was about seven. I’ve been competing since I was ten,” she replied, “I actually haven’t skated in a while, but I found that lake earlier in the week, and I couldn’t resist trying it out again.”

“Why’d you stop?” he asked.

“It was more of a sport my mother wanted me to do. I liked martial arts, so I switched over when I was fifteen. It was better, it had padded floors,” she said with a chuckle.

“So you’re like a black belt?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yep. I’ve been the national champ four years running,” she replied.

“Wow,” he murmured, taking his focus off of his cookie batter long enough to glance at her. Melinda would deny that she’d been admiring how strong his arms looked flexing as they mixed the batter.

“I started a few years ago myself, I’m a brown belt,” he replied with a small smile.

“We’ll have to go a few rounds, then,” she said with a smirk.

“I’m pretty sure you’d kick my ass,” he said as he began spooning cookie dough out onto the baking sheets.

“Most likely,” she replied with a grin.

Phil returned her grin, topping up her hot chocolate. He bent and pushed the baking trays into the oven. Melinda definitely did not stare at his ass in his sweats. Nope. She definitely didn’t. He turned back to her with a smile.

“It’ll be about twenty minutes before they’re done. Wanna watch a movie?” he asked.

Melinda knew she should probably get home, her mother would be home soon and she’d be in huge trouble if her mother knew she’d spent most of the day in an unknown boy’s house (even if he was the really nice (and cute) neighbour). Despite this, she like Phil. He was kind of funny, in a dorky manner, and she didn’t really have anything better to do with her time. Melinda smiled, bobbing her head affirmatively.

XXX

“What are you doing?”

Phil looked up with a smile, finding the object of his thoughts leaning against his office doorway with her arms crossed, a small smile on her face.

He grinned, turning the picture to show her. “I was just remembering the day we met, of course,” he replied.

She rolled her eyes but came into the room further, finding a nice seat in his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck and snorted.

“My mother never did forgive you for ruining those expensive skates,” she remarked, nuzzling her nose against his cheek affectionately.

“Hey, you were the one who weren’t watching where you were skating,” he retorted, “besides, what if you’d fallen in at a different time and I wasn’t there to heroically save you as I did? Besides, I think she’s slowly getting over it. Giving her a grandchild and the continuation of the May women line has slowly been softening her.”

Melinda rolled her eyes, giving him a pinch in his side. “We both know that you startled me with your damned camera,” she replied.

He nipped her neck in response. “If I recall correctly, that damned camera was what got us this house,” he told her, fiddling with the bands on her left ring finger.

“Yes, yes, you’re a very successful photographer. We know, Phil,” she replied in mock annoyance.

“Yes, it was that damned camera and a very, very good shot of a certain ice skater,” he said, nuzzling the spot behind her ear.

Melinda rolled her eyes, feeling herself blush lightly. She looked into his eyes, seeing his blue depths sparkling back up at her with utter love.

“I love you,” she said, bringing one hand up to drag it along the stubble on his face, caressing it with delicate fingers.

He caught her fingers and pressed a kiss to them, squeezing them with his own. “I love you too,” he replied, reaching up with his other hand and cupping the back of her neck, his thumb just brushing her jaw as he kissed her softly.

“Eurgh, couldn’t you guys at least close the door or something?!”

They broke to look up at their fifteen year old daughter standing at the entrance to the office. Her disgusted and disgruntled look prompted amused chuckles from both of her parents.

“My house, I can do whatever I want,” Phil said impishly.

“Yuck, Dad,” she replied.

Melinda smiled at their banter. “Was there something you wanted, Skye?”

“Yeah, Grandma is waiting in the car and she says we can’t afford to be late, or else I’ll risk feeling rushed and will therefore lose,” she replied, “I think, anyway. She was kind of yelling, and her Mandarin is difficult to understand when she gets worked up.”

Melinda sighed. “We’re coming, we’re coming,” she said, watching as her daughter nodded and slipped out of sight. She pecked Phil once more on his lips before rising.

“Better bring along that damned camera, something tells me you’re gonna need it,” she told him with a smile.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” he replied, taking the old camera from its spot on the shelf.

At the end of the day, Phil had another picture resting on his desk, this time showing three generations of May women on the ice, the youngest in the middle, still decked out in her sparkling black skating leotard, holding a huge bouquet of roses, the hint of a gold medal peeking out from behind the gorgeous blooms.

It went right between the matching frames holding the pictures of his daughter and wife in the same skating position, gently and gracefully twirling in midair.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt me on tumblr! I love writing! And Review! I love getting feedback.


End file.
